Another First Day
by kaylea dear
Summary: ok so it doesn't really have anything to do with twilight. but it might later. anyways. i felt i needed to share it with the world. :D who know? you actually might like it.


ok so i wrote this as an english paper and i fell in love with it. but since it doesn't fit into any catagories, we're just gunna say that this story_ somehow_ ties into twilight & the brown haired girl _might_ be bella. i'm slowly but surely working on the next "chapter".

:D

review if you'd like. my teacher said he was very impressed on how i put the feelings of being a new kid into writing.

i dunno.

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**Another First Day**

That had to be the most ridiculous thing the whole world had ever willingly swallowed; Just another incredibly great day ahead of him. No seriously, waking up what would have been two full shower lengths late and then not having any hot water to shower with was a fantastic way to start your first day at a new school full of vicious teens. There wasn't anything he could do but just run with the day and hope it doesn't suck as badly as its spectacular launch. But as much as he hoped, prayed, and got down on both knees and begged his parents to let him skip the day, or even better, his educational experience all together, he still ended up racing down the blacktop trying to get to class by the first bell.

But as surely as the cards he'd dealt, his trusty map of the school his mother thoughtfully printed for him was not in his backpack. He knew exactly what had happened to it. It was sticking out from under a stack of CDs he'd just unpacked, folded by what seemed like a kindergardener learning the difference between hamburger and hot dog style. Only this looked like the kid had stuffed the burger in is pocket and sent it for a spin in a high-powered washer. As fun as it had been driving around in circles, he had to get to class. He pulled passed a fenced toped with spiraling barbwire, totally student friendly, and found a parking spot that looked discrete enough. He flipped the key and listened to his car's rumble soften into silence. He didn't get out of the vehicle. He didn't want to. He didn't want to have make conversation with a bunch of self-righteous teenagers.

Its not that he's afraid of being judged, No, that was fine. Go ahead, size him right up. He already knew what people thought of him. He could see it all of their eyes; his reflection, their reaction. They were never very original. He'd moved around so much that he was completely used to people looking him up and down and throwing sideways glances in his direction. He looked perfectly normal: Jeans being held up by a leather belt, old brown tennis-shoes, a t-shirt of some old band no one else had heard of, and a beat up leather aviator's jacket. He'd always been told he looks like a blue-eyed Steven Strait. Tall, quiet, thoughtful: a loner. What bothered him is the way people treat each other, especially teenagers; Rude, inconsiderate people with no care in the world about anyone who wasn't involved directly in they're lives. No matter how many times they claimed to be a genuinely good person who accepts everyone, they're lying. You'll find other who you can relate to. And if anyone with original opinions or who has different taste tries to find a niche in your little system, well, you may not be mean to them, but you sure won't grab their shoulders and throw them into a bear hug. People are terrible. Friends treat each other like handbags; if one doesn't match you can always go to Macy's and buy a new one. No matter how hard you tell yourself you'll always be there for your friends, you don't count on them, because you know they won't be there for you. No, Ryan doesn't like people.

The first warning bell made its self known as Ryan still sat in his car deliberating the consequences of throwing his car in reverse and high-tailing it out of there. Too late now. The gates were being shut. No getting out unless you had a pass in hand. With a sigh he grabbed his backpack and heaved himself out of the driver's seat. As soon as he ambled passed the double doors, Ryan immediately knew who the elected king of school was. Trophies, pictures, plaques, and banners lined the main hallway. Typical. The lines between groups of kids were defined at this school. Ryan went though his junior AP classes with his assigned guidance counselor. She looked in need of counseling herself. Her desk was an organized mess and by the time he was able to escape the cramped space, Ryan was sick of the pen-clicking-noise.

Needless to say, Ryan's day had taken a crappy turn from the moment his world shuddered to life around him that morning. Even after getting another not so helpful map from the front desk, he still found himself asking people where he was and how in the world does he get to his next class, and after having a lovely who-in-God's-name-are-you look bestowed upon him, each person sent him in the wrong direction. He was late to every single one of his classes. Ryan tried to slip into the last class of the day, which wasn't very difficult seeing as how the desks had their backs to the door and the teacher didn't even acknowledge him as he slid into the last desk closest to the door. Only one single girl with a head of full, brown, satin hair noticed his entrance. She smiled shyly and handed him her notes he'd missed. He could tell that she hadn't tried to sum him up in a few short thoughts. Maybe tomorrow wouldn't be so horrible.


End file.
